


Symptom Superficial

by VestigialClaws



Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: Gen, do psychopaths dream of...where was I taking this joke..., it’s a nightmare, nonsexual choking, shogo has strange dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-02 23:46:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14556219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VestigialClaws/pseuds/VestigialClaws
Summary: Do you dream, Makishima Shogo?





	Symptom Superficial

‘Your worst enemy, he reflected, was your nervous system. At any moment the tension inside you was liable to translate itself into some visible symptom.’  
His hands are always so cold. It’s like that chill that covers his heart extends its grasp to elegant extremities and refuses to release them even to warmth’s beckoning. It’s just another feeling left numb to Makishima Shogo, he’ll burn his fingerprints off with a match and feel nothing even as the stench of burning flesh fills his nose. He’s only an observer in this world, a phantom incapable of pain, incapable of joy, incapable of love. His hands are so cold but even he can feel the chill of the floor beneath his fingerpads.  
The walls are as white as his hue remains, cold and unfriendly save for the glass covering the one he faces. Shogo drags himself on hands and knees to the glass, pressing a palm - bloody and scraped - to the unyielding surface.  
They’re watching, the hair on the back of his neck stands on end as he stares through the glass to the other side kept hidden from him. But he knows they’re there, an audience waiting for the show they came to see, for their captive entertainer to stop his own life on the sidelines and dance for them.  
He doesn’t have it in him to do that, not with his breath coming in short, pained gasps as the air slowly seems to become thinner. His fingers kiss the floor, bloody palms grasping at its unyielding, sterile surface if only to paint it red with his proof of life.  
Makishima’s gasping, choking on what little air remains as his lungs burn and even that cold heart feels the crushing terror of inevitable death.   
But it’s not that, it’s them. He can see them now, faceless and beautiful and wholly terrible. Their hands are joined and those blank faces split to reveal only soft smiles. The oracle herself is watching his demise, her silence broken only by his choking gasps.  
And Makishima can’t look away, his last breaths are hers, somehow torn from cracked lips in the softest of kisses. “Stay with us. Let us have you now…” Sibyl breathes her honeyed words back into his mouth as Shogo chokes beneath her, eyes watering, palms grasping at empty air.  
image  
He wakes in a cold sweat, heart pounding against his chest, thin frame shaking and shuddering as he gulps in breath after breath after desperate, terrified breath. He doesn’t sleep well these days, not when he wakes tasting blood on his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> I miss writing psycho pass. Where’d all my koumaki smut go?


End file.
